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If you are lucky, as some of us are, to have a best friend who is always there when you need them most, who doesn’t hold back opinion but is never judgmental, who has been with you through thick and thin and back again, then you are among the most blessed of people.

Doreen Lanyon and Ann Palmer have been best friends for more than half a century, since 1958, when Ann’s new fiancé Steve took her over to meet Doreen and her husband Len. The men worked together for the Canadian National Railway, and Steve had just proposed to Ann and he wanted to show off her ring to his friends.

The young women instantly “clicked,” Doreen remembers. She was 29, Ann was 32.

They became fast friends and today — 54 years later — they still are.

That much is clear with just a glance at the Celebrations announcement in the Dec. 13 Vancouver Sun, which featured a picture of Ann and Doreen arms wrapped around each other in an easy hug, over the message, LIFELONG FRIENDS, Happy 86th Birthday Ann Palmer and Happy 83rd Birthday Doreen Lanyon, Lots of love from both your families.

The two women in the photograph wear that mien that often comes with age and familiarity — they look surprisingly alike, both sporting short white hair, glasses and casual sweaters. Their friendly open faces convey both kindness and don’t-mess-with-me common sense, as if they’d serve you cookies one minute and swat you upside the head for bad manners the next.

That half century of friendship, of laughter and tears, of secrets and heartfelt sharing, of dinners and lunches, of births and deaths, remains as precious to them as the first day they met. They have matured through the Depression and wars and jobs and moves. Ann, who worked much of her life as a registered nurse, hailed from Ireland. Doreen’s family came to the West Coast from Calgary, and she worked as a nurse’s aide, in home care and in the Woodward’s camera department.

“When she was upset,” says Doreen, “she’d phone me. We phoned each other almost every other night.”

“We never had an argument,” adds Ann. “I couldn’t find a better friend if I tried.”

The parallels of the lives are almost eerie. They were both married in August, to train engineers. Both worked in health care. Ann has two sons, as does Doreen. Ann was there when Doreen’s 58-year-old son Gary died in 2008. Doreen was there when Ann’s husband Steve died in 2006. They have both revelled in the arrival of their grandchildren, the lights of their lives: four for Ann and four for Doreen.

And, of course, they celebrate their same-day birthday every December, raising a glass to another year everywhere from New York to the River Rock casino (“we always tell them it’s our birthday and we get free desserts,” says Doreen).

The connection is as strong as that between sisters.

As they grew older, their lives became busier. Ann and Steve stayed put in Vancouver, while Doreen and Len moved around Metro Vancouver a fair amount, but they’d make sure to see each other at least once a month and, as they both say, they were “gabbing on the phone all the time.”

But time has a way of slowing us down, of shifting our habits, and these days the two don’t see each other as much as they would like to. Doreen lives alone in New Westminster and Ann lives with her son in Surrey, but when they get together it’s like it has always been. Sometimes they go to Metrotown for lunch, sometimes they head over to the George Derby Centre in Burnaby, where 86-year-old Len has been living for the past three years.

And as it is for most best friends, Christmas has always been a special time, one of those occasions to celebrate their affection and gratitude for each other, although the past few years have seen some of their traditions fall away, such as Ann and Steve’s annual Boxing Day open house.

But this New Year’s Eve, says Doreen, she’s expecting Ann to be with her as usual at midnight when, upholding a cherished Irish tradition, the two of them will ring bells at the front and back doors of Doreen’s apartment, “to let old spirits out and let new spirits in.”

There has, says Doreen, never been a secret between them.

Well, except for one.

When Doreen applied for her passport when she was in her 50s, she discovered that her mother had made a mistake, confusing her birthday with that of her brother’s. Turns out she was actually born on Dec. 12, not Dec. 13.

“I didn’t tell Ann for a long time because I knew she’d be upset.”

When she finally spilled the beans, they both laughed it off and decided to keep celebrating their birthdays on the 13th.

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